


Falling Up

by Slaughter_Me



Series: Cute meets [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Bucky likes his men sober and consenting, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drunk Steve Rogers, Fluff, Lies, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Is a handsy little shit, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, switching point of view
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10080221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaughter_Me/pseuds/Slaughter_Me
Summary: Bucky is a good student. He really is! If it weren't for this one damn class. So a tutor it is. And because this is Bucky's life, his new tutor is the cute guy who drunken felt him up last weekend. Too bad cute guy doesn't remember. Of course.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to everyone that got me through this story [Little-lottie](http://little-lottie.tumblr.com/) [Sebeefianstan](http://sebeefstianstan.tumblr.com/) [Boldyluckycheesecake](http://boldlyluckycheesecake.tumblr.com/) Without you all this story wouldn't of seen the light of day, the best betas I could ask for!
> 
> Special thanks to [Frost](http://frostbitebakery.com/) and [Leelee](http://http://stevetopsbuckysbottom.tumblr.com//) for cheering me on<3
> 
> Title from The Cab - Falling up. Music I listened to whilst writing this

 

_**Bucky ** _

 

Bucky sits on the sofa in the communal living area, music pounds in his ears, bodies surround him. Dancing, making out, others chatting in small groups with words shouted due to the music being far too loud. Campus police will give them a wide berth tonight, as they do every time their frat house has a party. It was just one of the perks of being a Beta Theta Pi: biggest fraternity on campus. He supposes it doesn't hurt that the sheriff was/is a Beta as well, so he's got a soft spot for them and turns a blind eye most of the time.

Bucky takes a swig of his beer, cool condensation runs down his fingers and drips into his lap as he shifts in his seat. He isn't into the crazy keggers they like throwing here but he can't readily get out of them since he lives in the house. Just another part of frat house life. He deals with them the only way he knows how: he drinks himself into sweet numbness.

To be fair he’s had more than one reason to drink recently. Firstly, he’s failing one of his classes: art history. Bucky thought it’d be an easy ride and something he would actually enjoy to boot. It isn't just staring at pretty pictures, it’s interesting and compelling but fucking _hard_. Professor Pierce had pulled him aside and in a patronizing tone implied that Bucky would be better suited to an easier class, perhaps Geology 101. _That smug bastard_. Bucky wouldn't let him win, so he’d gone to the Arts and Humanities tutor center and asked about the possibility of a little help. The lady at the center had taken his details and explained that a tutor would contact him to arrange a meeting time that suited them both.

Bucky hopes the tutor- who’s going to try and drag his grade up so he doesn’t fail the semester and flunk out of college-contacts him sooner rather than later or Professor Pierce is gonna be on his ass again and that’s never a fun time.

Secondly, he’d fucked up his shoulder in a practice session a few weeks ago and Coach Fury benched him for at least two months to make sure he healed fully. The plus side of that was that he could get wasted whenever he wanted, which is precisely what he’s gonna do.

He finishes his beer and gets up to grab another. The making out around the room has intensified. He sighs to himself and decides now would be a good time to vacate the sofa and find some solace with a few beers in a quiet place and wait for the party to die down. He wanders through to the kitchen, snags a few Buds from an ice bucket on the counter and makes his way to the back garden. It's just a stretch of grass with a few chairs and a porch swing tucked away at the far end, but it's quiet down here away from the bustle of the main humdrum of party noise. Not many people want to be this far away from the action.

Or so he thought.

As he approaches the swing he notices a small figure hunched over, nursing a beer. Bucky sits down slowly next to him.

“Hey man, you okay if I crash your party for a while? It's loud up there and I need some quiet.”

The guy looks up, blue eyes, blond mess of hair covering most of his face, his bangs are sweaty and sticking to his forehead, and what Bucky can see of his face is flushed a delicate pink.

“Sure,” he slurs ever so slightly back at Bucky.

Ah, so the guy’s on the way to getting wasted. Well, Bucky isn't gonna judge since he’s on the train to Drunksville himself.

They sit in companionable silence a while before the guy leans back and takes a swig of the remains of his bottle of Bud.

“Did you bring more beers with you?” He motions to Bucky’s bottle.

“Sure, I snagged a few Buds before I came out. Unless you’d prefer a Natty? Think I spotted some in the kitchen.”

“Yuck, man. No freaking way ‘m drinkin’ that shit. I’ll take the Bud, thanks,” the tiny blond says as he takes the offered bottle from Bucky's outstretched hand.

“No problem,” Bucky laughs and leans back, gently rocking the swing, moving his legs with the sway. The movement jostles them a little, and his companion leans back and tucks his legs underneath himself, angling his body towards Bucky.

“You got a name pretty boy?”

Bucky snorts at that. Been a long time since anyone has called him pretty. He kinda likes it from this guy though, wide eyes looking up at him framed by dark lashes and thick black glasses. He’s pretty cute.

“Been awhile since I’ve been called pretty, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Bucky?” He responds raising an eyebrow. A grin starts to form at the corner of those beautiful shell pink lips “Buck buck, like the noise a chicken makes.”

“Wow, insult me why don't you. What’s your name then?”

“Steeb, my name is Steeb,” comes the garbled reply.

“Steeb?” Bucky laughs a little, but the face the guy pulls is adorable, all pouty and cute.

“Well it's nice to meet you Steeb. Why’re you out here and not in there livin’ it up?”

“It's _Steve_ , and ‘m avoidin’ people, I guess,” he mutters taking another swig of his beer.

“Fair enough, guess that's me too, a bit too loud in there for me tonight.”

“I don’t mind loud, I just mind my friends thinking that because I’m single, I need to hook up at every chance I get.” He sighs loudly, clearly as done with his friends as Bucky is with his, and for pretty much the same reasons too.

“S’not like I don't meet people,” Steve continued “ ‘m just choosy who I take to bed y’know?”

“I hear ya, pal. My friends seem to think if I’m single, it's their job to match make me with any and all of their single friends. I can find my own dates if I want them.”

“You’re too pretty to be single, Buck buck. Should have all the girls swoonin’ and begging to be on a date with you.”

“Well, that's probably why ‘m single then huh? I don't want the _girls_ swoonin after me.” He waggles an eyebrow and chuckles, drinking down the last of the beer.

They go back to sitting in silence, just drinking their beers and making polite conversation about anything and nothing. After a while Bucky thinks he should probably head back to the house and see if the party’s winding down yet. It’s pretty late, or, well, early he supposes as he glances at his watch. Almost 2am and some people probably have class tomorrow.

He sighs and stands, jolting the swing as he does, making Steve lose his balance and drop down to the grass with a thump. The swing comes back and knocks into him, smacking the back of his head before Bucky can stop its momentum.

“Oh, oww,” Steve cries out and clutches the back of his head with his free hand.

Bucky grabs the swing to still it's movement and sinks quickly to his knees to see if Steve is okay.

“Hey buddy, you alright? That didn't seem too hard of a crack but I think I should walk you back to the house and find your friends, yeah.” He doesn't pose it as a question. He has no intention of leaving Steve here on the floor with a possible concussion.

“Ow,” Steve says again as he drops his head to rest on Bucky's knee. Bucky runs his palm across the back of Steve's head where the swing had hit. He can feel a small bump forming but thankfully there doesn't seem to be blood or any obvious wound.

“C’mon champ, let's go find your friends okay?” He tries to get up from the grass but Steve has his hands wound around his thighs tightly like a limpet, holding on for dear life. He tries to pry the fingers away from one another but Steve grumbles and head butts his thigh before nuzzling, actually _nuzzling,_ into his crotch.

“Woah there dude, I don't think you should be doin’ that in your state. You’re drunk and possibly concussed. You need to stand up so we can get you home to bed okay?”

“Bed, yeah, your bed right chick-chick? Bet it's comfy in your bed wit’ you.”

Bucky chuckles. jeez this guy’s adorable and in any other circumstance Bucky would absolutely be trying to hit that, but drunk and concussed is definitely not on Bucky's kink list.

“Your own bed. Seriously, c’mon, Steve. Get up off the grass and I’ll help you walk. You can lean on me okay?”

“‘Kay,” Steve slurs a little. His hand rubs up the inside of Bucky's thigh and cups at his dick, palming him through his too tight jeans until Bucky can feel the stirring of interest low in his stomach. He needs to put a stop to this because a drunken fumble is not what he wants right now, especially with someone drunk and maybe in need of medical attention.

He bats Steve's hand away and tells him again to stop as he hauls him onto his feet and walks him up to the house to find his friends, fighting off the hands trying to grope him every step of the way. After asking a few people if they know Steve and his friends, it doesn't take him long to find the two girls. He hands Steve over into their care but not before Steve lunges for him and fastens his lips to Bucky's, slipping far too much tongue into the kiss and grabbing at his ass firmly. He manages to pull their hips together and grind his cock against Bucky’s before his friends pry him off with muttered apologies and giggles. Steve is smiling at Bucky and waving like a total goofball.

The girls laugh and with one on either side of the tiny drunk, and probably concussed mess, they haul Steve home.

Bucky sighs sadly, in more sober circumstances he would totally be trying to take him to bed. Steve was absolutely adorable. Maybe...maybe Bucky can try and find out where on campus he lives from some of the guys tomorrow.

He stumbles up the stairs into his room, which is thankfully empty, and climbs into bed. His dreams are full of big blue eyes gazing up at him, while soft pink lips part and take his cock into the waiting heat beyond them, his fingers buried in sandy blond hair, tugging gently as he comes down the dream guy’s willing throat.

 

_** Steve ** _

 

Steve wakes up to a pounding in his head that’s akin to what he imagines 100 tap dancers tapping inside his skull would feel like. Fuck, what the hell did he drink last night? He remembers shots, more shots, and then the girls harping on about getting him laid, so he’d wandered off to get away from them. They were great friends, but Nat had this unhealthy obsession with his sex life, which Sharon tended to agree with, and sometimes it made for slightly annoying conversations that Steve usually always noped out of.

He tries to sit but his stomach lurches, threatening to empty itself, so he quickly lays his head back down on his pillow, willing the room to stop spinning. On his bedside table, he spots a tumbler of water and some Tylenol sat on top of a note. He’ll have to remember to thank Sharon and Nat for those later.

Steve reaches over, grabs the pain killers and swallows them down, chasing them with some water as he picks the note up and lays back down slowly and gently.

_Morning Loser, you were pretty wasted last night. Your hot friend returned you to us, but I doubt you remember that at all. Who was he? Have you been hitting that sexy thing without telling your best girls? Shame on you, Steven! We want details. Take the pills and go back to sleep, you don't have class today_

 

_We love you_

_N &S_

_xxxx_

As the pain relief starts to work its magic he drifts back off and wonders who the hot guy he’d been chatting to last night was.

The chirping wakes him. He groans and reaches for the phone that’s making the offending noise: an incoming message from the student center with details of a tutoring job if he wants to take it. The tutoring center will pay him to help and he can always use the spare cash, so why not? He writes a quick reply to confirm that he'll call the student and arrange some sessions

Stretching, he hauls himself out of bed, thankful that the painkillers have done their job, and stumbles into the bathroom, glancing at the clock which tells him it’s 12:04pm.

After a quick shower and brushing his teeth (his mouth tasted like a skunk had crawled into it overnight and died there, _urgh_ ), he makes his way to the kitchen of the small apartment he shares. It’s situated just off campus but still within walking distance for all his classes.

He throws together a grilled cheese sandwich and gets comfy on the sofa. His plan for the day is nothing at all, except to contact the student about the tutoring and probably catch up on some crappy TV. He decides to shoot a text off to the person, just a brief ‘this is your tutor please contact me for times and dates for sessions at your earliest convenience’ text, and he settles down to watch TV for the rest of the day, safe in the knowledge that Sam won't be back for a few hours since he has classes for most of the day.

His phone beeps. The student, who says his name is James, has text back. He wants to see Steve as soon as possible since he’s close to failing the class and he says that he’s free most evenings through the week. That works for Steve fairly nicely since they all usually go out as a group on a Friday and Saturday and he wouldn't want to miss those nights. He arranges to meet him the following Monday evening at six in the library.

Around 7pm Sam comes home and wakes a sleeping Steve from his spot on the sofa.

“You lazy little shit, have you been asleep all day?” Sam says raising his eyebrows.

Steve just shrugs at him, “ ‘s not like I had class or anything else to do, plus I was hungover this morning.”

“Yeah, you were wasted when the dynamic duo brought you home last night. Kept saying something about a chicken and you tried to stick your hands down my pants,” Sam finishes with a chuckle.

Steve claps his hands over his mouth and mutters a muffled apology.

“No worries, my man.” Sam slaps a hand down on his shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze. “I was more worried about the chicken noises you were making at me, thought I might have to take you to the ER for a while there.”

“I’m so sorry Sam. The girls - they kept going on about how they could set me up with Peter, and when I said no they decided maybe I just needed to get back between a girls thighs - their words not mine. Don't roll your eyes at me man! It's them that are disgusting and they were saying Maria would probably go out with me, I got fucking pissed with them, and got blind drunk to avoid them all night.”

“Shit man, I’m sorry they were riding you again. You know they mean well, they just don't always have much tact.”

“They never have ANY tact, Sam, but it's fine. Apparently I found a hot guy to chat to but I don't remember much other than dark hair, sexy eyes, and him giving me his beer and...oh god I think I tried to kiss him. Shit. Sam I’m never drinking again!”

“I’ve heard that before too, dude. You say that every time you wake up with a sore head,” Sam laughs before joining Steve on the sofa.

~

The weekend passes in a mostly sober haze of trying to remember what happened at the frat party and trying to get the remainder of his assignments complete. Monday comes around faster than Steve would’ve liked, and before he knows it he is making his way to the library to meet James for their first tutoring session.

He finds tutoring fairly straightforward, if occasionally somewhat awkward. The jocks that picked on him through high school for his small stature and nerdy glasses are still present in college. They also tend to be flunking most of their classes, so they respect Steve more than he is used to since he tends to pull their grades up to a pass. That makes them at least a little grateful, so they leave him alone for the most part.

He gets to the library earlier than planned on Monday evening so he can find some books and a decent table for them to study at. He really hopes this guy isn't some asshole and they can work well together.

As he walks in, Miriam at the front desk smiles at him warmly.

“Hey, Steve. Business or pleasure today?”

“Business, Miri. How’s things?”

“Oh, you know how it is dear. Always something ailing me. If it's not my hip, then it's the fact I can’t see without my glasses, which I can't find.” She raises her hands in a ‘what can you do’ kind of motion and Steve laughs.

“Your glasses are on top of your head where they always are and there’s nothing wrong with your hips, you lying witch. You’re barely 40, so stop bullshittin’ me.” He smirks as he hurries past the desk and makes a beeline for the history section. Dropping his book bag on the desk he sets to finding some reading material to get them started.

 

_**Bucky ** _

 

Monday evening Bucky makes his way to the library for the tutoring session, feeling down and frankly pissed off. Over the weekend his Art History lecturer had emailed him and asked when he was finally dropping his class. Bucky had been furious, he’d sent a polite email back saying that he had no intention of dropping the class and had arranged a tutor. Professor Pierce was a tyrant and Bucky was not gonna give that dickbag the satisfaction of failing his fucking class.

He climbs the steps and goes through the revolving door, grabbing his phone from his jean pocket to text the tutor for his whereabouts in the library. He could be anywhere in this massive building and rather than wander aimlessly it makes more sense to shoot off a text. Unlocking the phone Bucky already has a text waiting: the tutor is in the back of the History section set up in a quiet corner. Good, Bucky thinks. He needs to focus himself and get this done, hopefully the tutor knows his shit. Bucky has never needed one before, never failed a class in High school, never got less than a B and his SAT score was an impressive 1440.

The woman on the front desk gives him a smile as he makes his way towards the back where he spots the blonde head, eyes cast down reading from one of the many books that are all open and scattered across the large table. Looks like he’s in for a heavy evening of learning, yay for that.

He drags his feet towards the table, then stops abruptly as the head that was down suddenly snaps up and smiles gently. And that face, that smile; he knows this guy. This is drunk Steve from the frat party, the guy who felt him up and who Bucky would quite happily let feel him up again, many many times if Steve wanted it. The guy Bucky couldn't stop thinking about all weekend and no one seemed to know who he was. _This_ was his tutor. Bucky was just about the luckiest sob in the world.

“Hi, I'm Steve. You must be James?” Steve motions to the chair next to him.

“Yeah, I’m James.” Bucky is confused for a few seconds before he realizes that Steve doesn't remember him. Well that makes things easier and harder respectively. Bucky sits down with a thud and starts getting his books out.

“So, flunking Art History huh? What assignment are you on right now? Let's see what we can do about your grade.” Steve is still smiling, wearing those glasses and he has a fucking pencil behind his ear. He’s the epitome of a nerd and Bucky couldn't be hotter for him right now. He’s like a walking wet dream.

“James?” Steve says again, Bucky shakes himself out of his own head and sets himself to work.

“Sorry, been a long weekend and I‘m not quite with it today.”

He pushes his work over to Steve and he smiles back at Bucky. His mouth is so pretty Bucky wants to lick into it, taste it. Shit he needs to concentrate. He points to the assignment and explains to Steve where he’s having issues and Steve gets right down to work. He’s a pencil tapper, tapping out a gentle beat on the edge of the table as he talks and Bucky soaks in every word. His voice is soothing, tone so deep for someone so small in stature and Bucky can see that he’s brimming with confidence and really fucking knows this art history shit, maybe Bucky is gonna pass this thing after all, that is if he can concentrate on the work and what Steve’s saying and not just the velvet smooth voice alone.

“So you see, this is where you’ve been going wrong,” Steve points out and Bucky smiles at him. It's been three hours of studying and Bucky is more upbeat than he has been in a while.

“That's fucking great, Steve, thank you. I’m gonna pass this assignment thanks to you.”

“Nah it ain't on me, this is all on you. You listened to what I said and you understood it, I think you just kept hitting a wall for this bit and backed yourself into a hole. I’m glad that I could help you out. It's been almost effortless, honestly.”

Bucky thinks he might be a little in love already, and realizes he’s smiling goofily at Steve so he quickly schools his expression and nods once. Steve is leaning back in the hard library chair, hands behind his head stretching, showing a small expanse of stomach and a peek of a rib bone, and Bucky immediately wants to straddle him and lick up that exposed bit of flesh. Shit he needs to stop this right now. Steve doesn't remember him and probably isn't interested in him. He was probably just drunk and lonely at the party and hit on the only person around. Bucky should come clean and tell him, he hopes he can keep him as a tutor for the rest of the semester since they work pretty well together and Bucky needs all the help he can get.

“Well I think we’re basically done here James, and you have my number so if you need any more sessions you can come straight through me rather than the center.”

“Oh yeah, that's great thanks. I’ll send you a text for the next session sometime in the week when I know my schedule?”

“That's fine. I’m usually free most evenings unless it's the weekend.” Steve smiles again and jesus fuck Bucky thought his smile could be as bright as the sun, it was ethereal.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to interfere with all the frat parties you must attend,” he says with a smirk, tongue poking out the side of his mouth.

Steve frowns and looks at him. “Frat parties? I don't usually go to many, Do I look like an avid partier?”

Bucky clucks his tongue and responds. “Weekends dude. Don't we all attend some crazy frat shit? I mean it's the college life right?”

“Oh well, yeah, I suppose so. Student life and all that.”

The guilt rises for not telling Steve they had already met, however briefly it might’ve been, but since the session had gone so well, Bucky didn't want to make it awkward. He could tell Steve another time.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week later and Bucky meets Steve in the library again. A huge grin on his face, he flings his paper into Steve's face.

“Jeez James, hello to you too,” he says through the paper that's tickling his nose as it's kept there by Bucky's wiggling hand.

“I passed the assignment! Thanks to you. Fuckin’ Pierce didn't know what to do when he said through gritted teeth that I passed with enough of a mark to remain in his class!” Bucky is thrumming with excitement, can't believe that he actually did it, that they did it.

“That is awesome news, dude! You’re gonna celebrate right?” Steve smiles up at him.

“Yeah the boys are having a thing at the weekend so I’ll probably kick back with a few drinks then.”

“I’ve been invited to a party at Beta Theta Pi, so I’ll probably show my face for that. It might get the girls off my back if I show up to another party.”

Bucky smiles. He’s gonna see Steve at the weekend in a non-official capacity, the thought makes him feel a little tingly. So far they have text briefly to set up this meeting and Steve had sent a text that morning wishing him luck with the meeting he had with Pierce.

“I have girls who like to ride me too dude so I feel you,” Bucky says with an eyebrow waggle that makes Steve spit his drink all over the book open in front of him.

“You can't just say shit like that James!” he mutters. “I just ruined a perfectly good reference book!”

“Well it's true,” Bucky says. “They’re always on my back for me to get out and date again. The last one didn't go so great and the most action I’ve had recently was at the last party when…” Bucky trails off quickly, he was about to say when you felt me up, but Steve doesn't remember that and Bucky doesn't want to make it awkward between them so quickly changes the subject. “Anyways, I have a new assignment from Pierce. Will you help me go over it?” He holds out the new project.

Steve stares at him for a second before nodding his head and taking the offered sheet of paper. “Of course, that's what we’re here for isn't it?” Bucky notes that his tone is short, words clipped.

They get into the work but Bucky's mind wanders. It’s weird - why can't he just tell Steve they met once before? Why is he keeping it to himself? There’s absolutely no reason not to tell him, and yet he hasn’t. He knows it's not logical, but he likes Steve, he can see himself dating him if he could just pluck up the courage to ask him out. Bucky always does this, can never ask people out, he always gets tongue tied and trips over the words.

They finish up and say their goodbyes. Steve falters a moment and Bucky wonders what he was about to say, but then Steve waves and is walking down the steps and away from Bucky.

Bucky shakes his head at himself. “Get it together, Barnes,” he mumbles as he heads down the steps and makes his way back to the house.

_** Steve ** _

Steve looks in the mirror and sighs. Sharon and Natasha are sat on his bed glaring at him yet again for his choice of shirt.

“Steve, do you own a fucking shirt that isn't plaid?” Sharon asks.

“I know he's got some plain in here somewhere, because I was with him when he bought them,” Nat responds before Steve can even open his mouth.

“I only bought them because you made me,” Steve hollers from inside the closet.

He finds a navy button down that will probably work with the dark jeans he’s chosen. He shrugs it on over the tight white tee and buttons it, leaving the top two buttons undone, and turns on the spot, arms out waiting for the girls approval.

He gets it as they both nod and Sharon smiles.

“Steve that's wonderful. You look delicious. I could eat you right up myself.” She grins at him with that slight predatory look in her eye that she gets.

“Ick, jeez Sharon I just ate are you trying to make me puke?” He ducks the shoe that's flying towards his head and laughs.

“Chill your panties Rogers, you know she's all mine,” Natasha responds.

“ _All_ yours huh?” Sharon laughs running her perfectly manicured nails along Nat’s arm.

“Will you two shut up for a second and confirm that I can put my fucking shoes on now.”

Nat waves her hands at him. “Yes, yes you look positively radiant. Whoever you’re trying to impress is bound to fall at your feet and blow you like a champ the moment you ask.”

“Oh fuck you, Romanoff,” Steve scowls, but the girls just laugh as they casually drape their arms around one another. They head downstairs to wait while Steve grabs his converse before they all head out to the party.

It's already in full swing when they arrive at the frat house and make their way through the busy foyer towards the kitchen. Steve grabs a beer and leans against the countertop while the girls pour themselves a red plastic cup of some fluorescent green concoction that Barton probably had a hand in creating. Making a mental note to stay the hell away from that and stick to just a few beers he scans the room.

He notices a few people from class and nods to them. A small smile crosses his lips as he spots James, well the back of James at least. He’s well aware it's creepy to recognize someone just from their ass, but James has such a nice ass it's hard to not notice it, and it's tightly hugged by - fuck him sideways - bondage pants. Bondage pants, sweet fucking lord, Steve thinks he might die on the spot.

All the air leaves Steve's lungs and he forgets to breathe. Sam picks that moment to wrap an arm around his shoulders and starts to talk but realizes quickly that Steve isn't okay.

“Steve, what’s...where’s your inhaler?”

Steve must point to his back pocket somehow as Sam has his hand grappling at Steve's ass to find the medication. He hands the inhaler to him and Steve takes a few puffs, feeling his lungs start to ease almost immediately as the medicine hits.

“What brought that on?” Sam asks. “Been awhile since you had an attack. Lucky you brought it out with you.” He nods his head at the inhaler in Steve's hand.

“Yeah, it's been a while,” Steve manages to croak out, eyes still fixed on the ass directly in front of him. Sam's eye line follows Steve's and he laughs.

“Oh, I see how it is man. Hot piece of ass gave you an asthma attack, that's gotta be a mighty fine boy for that to happen, huh?” He waggles his eyebrows and makes kissy faces at Steve.

“Shut up,” Steve hisses through clenched teeth and whacks Sam upside the head, which only makes Sam laugh harder since Steve has to stand on his tippy toes to even reach that far up.

Thank god James hasn't noticed them because Steve would be mortified. Sam can be an ass but not half as much as the girls can be if they get wind of what's going on, so Steve grabs Sam's elbow and walks him away from the kitchen past the girls, who tag along, and into the crowded living space.

The music is thumping and it's hard to talk, which Steve thinks is the perfect setting to not discuss what just happened. Sam must understand because he just smiles and swigs on his beer, head bopping to the beat as the girls dance around them, clearly trying to get Steve to loosen up a bit. He isn't this much of a buzzkill usually but he just can't seem to relax in this house. The last time he was here he was feeling up some random hottie, or so he vaguely recalls. Natasha catches his eye and moves in to talk to him.

“You think your sexy li’l thang is gonna be here, Rogers?” She all but bellows in his ear.

“I don't have a _‘sexy li’l thang’,_ Nat. I don't even remember the name of the guy,” he shouts back at her. She just throws her head back and laughs, winks at him and goes back to Sharon. They start whispering to each other and grinning at him. Shit, that's never good.

“I'm gonna grab another beer. Sam, you want?” His eyes narrow at the still giggling girls.

“Sure thing, grab a few then we won't have to move for a bit.”

“Will do,” he responds, moving through the throng of people and back into the kitchen.

There’s a distinct lack of people in the kitchen now. Most have moved to the garden or the den he guesses. He easily snags four bottles of Bud from the cooler and makes his way back to Sam. His eyes scam for James. He should've just said hi earlier, but James had been busy talking to some of the Beta Theta guys. He probably won't see him again in this mess of people.

Sam is talking to a small group of people when Steve gets back, and Nat and Sharon are nowhere to be seen. Probably wandered off to have a shag knowing those two. He interrupts Sam's chat to pass him two of the beers and joins in with the conversation. Sam’s going on about how he's here on a baseball scholarship but there's no way that's what he wants to do with his life, showing off to the group of course. Sam Wilson, always the flirt no matter who it’s with. Steve smiles and nods every time the conversation is directed at him, his mind still firmly on how hot James’ ass was looking in those pants.

“Gonna be a military man just like my pop, right Rogers?” Sam grins bumping Steve's shoulder.

“Oh yeah, gonna be a pilot this one. You should nail him down while you can ladies,” he jokes and throws a wink to one of them. Sam laughs and fist bumps him, both of them ignoring the fact that Sam likes cock just as much as Steve does.

“Hey Steve,” Sharon’s voice sounds from behind him. “Look who we found.”

Steve whirls around, ready to tell them whoever it is he ain't interested, when he notices a smile he recognizes. A smile that’s attached to James, of course it is, but how the hell the girls know him and know that Steve knows him is quite the mystery.

“Hey,” James says quietly.

“Hey James. Didn't know you were gonna be here tonight.”

“Oh, it's James is it?” Natasha laughs and winks at Sharon.

“You two are fuckin’ weird you know that?” Sam butts in, nodding at James. “I know you...star quarterback right?”

“Not much the star after dislocating my shoulder last month and coach benched me for the foreseeable,” James replies sadly.

“Ah, you won't be benched for long man. You know coach likes to take it slow with injuries.”

“Yeah he does, but at least I can have a drink and relax. Not like all the losers who have a game tomorrow so are on soda tonight.” He clinks bottles with Sam, his smile as bright as the goddamn moon, and Steve is so gone, so fucking gone.

They’ve barely said anything to each other and Steve is staring like an idiot. Listening to James and Sam talk sports is oddly soothing.

“So, how do you know Steve, Barnes?” Sam asks.

“Oh I'm tutoring him in Art History. He's got Pierce,” Steve says with a scowl.

“I have Pierce too,” Sharon chimes in. “I could tutor you.”

James smiles but shakes his head. “Think I’ll stick with Steve. He's seen me through the first assignment all right, so I think he can manage the rest. Thanks for the offer though.”

“So Nat, how do you know James?” Sam asks.

“Oh I don't know him, not really. We met him a few weekends ago at the party here. You know, the one where Steve was all pouty and wouldn't play nice?”

“Ah, I remember the morning after that party,” Sam offers with a grin.

“Do you come to these things often then?” Steve asks James, ignoring Sam and Natasha completely.

“Well, I live here,” James says casually with a shrug, “So it's kinda in the rule book or somethin’.”

A flash of the last party hits Steve, hands fumbling at a fly, looking up from the floor into steel grey eyes, lips pressed together sloppily.

The realization hits Steve as the confession lingers in the air between them, how Nat and Sharon know James from the last party, and now he can feel the heat rising in his face, the blush tinging up to the tips of his ears.

“Oh,” he responds quietly, eyes wide and trained on James. “I’m just gonna...yeah, I’m gonna... head off.”

Before anyone can say anything he turns and walks out of the party leaving his friends and James behind in varying states of confusion.

Furious, Steve walks with no destination in mind, he just needs to clear his head. He’s a fucking fool, now he remembers, it's crystal clear in his mind. James is of course the hottie from the party but his name wasn't James. Steve can't remember the guy’s name but he _knows_ it wasn't James. Why on earth would James not tell him they had met before when they had the first tutoring session?

Unless...unless James was embarrassed and didn't want to make Steve suffer the same way he was suffering now. That must be it: James isn't interested in him and wants to save them both from an uncomfortable encounter. Well at least he knows now. Steve shakes his head, the memory of kissing James, of grabbing at him. God he _was_ a handsy drunk, just like Sam had said the morning after. He was never drinking again. Never.

 

_**Bucky ** _

 

Bucky left Steve's friends after a quick chat that was basically Sam telling him not to worry, that Steve was probably just wandering to clear his head, that he kinda did that when he needed some time; he preferred to disappear into his own head and sort through stuff rather than talking it out right away. Sam, Bucky thought, was a pretty good guy, and Bucky had tried to explain everything to him even though he just thought himself an idiot and told Sam as much.

The girls were shocked at realising that Bucky and James were one and the same. They’d told him that they had meant no harm; they just wanted Steve to find the hottie from the party and maybe unwind some. Well, they had said ‘fuck like bunnies’, but yeah.

So Bucky lies in bed and listens to the party carry on. He tries to figure out what the hell he can say to Steve to explain and to make it all okay.

He decides to text Steve and at least ask him to come back so they can talk it over.

_**Steve, please come back to the house, we should talk.** _

That done, he waits, and waits. His phone doesn’t ping with an incoming message and he considers sending another but would that seem like he was a bit of a creepy stalker? If Steve wasn't ready to talk then he figures he can wait. Bucky has a feeling Steve’s going to be worth the effort.

As he lays there he watches his phone screen remain dark and lifeless. Listening to the party die down, he realizes that even if Steve had text back or hell turned up at the house he wasn't sure what he would say or could say to make things better. Mulling it over he drifts off to sleep, confused and determined to make it up to Steve any way possible.

Somewhere around 4am the light from his cell wakes him. He groans and reaches to shut his phone off. Opening the text that made the screen illuminate in the first place, Bucky groans frustratedly. It's a short text from Steve:

_Not necessary, I’ll see you Monday in the library if you still want the tutoring session._

Well shit.

_______________________________________________________________________

The weekend rolls by slowly and Bucky fills it with studying. He needs to make sure his assignment is done and ready for Steve to look over come Monday. He’s been trying not to think of Steve since he responded to his text, telling him they were still on for Monday and that he would see him in their usual spot.

It's hard to not think of Steve though. Apart from the fact that Steve's amazing, he's also smart, funny, talented and absolutely gorgeous. He’s clearly mad though. Bucky’s stomach sinks from the thought.

On Sunday evening he’s sat at his laptop checking Facebook when he notices a new friend request. Clicking into the request absent mindedly, not paying much attention because his music has stopped and he needs to load a new playlist, his eyes go wide and his breath catches: the request is from Steve. Steve Rogers has requested him. He can't be completely mad at him then if he's sent the request, right?

Bucky quickly clicks ‘accept’ and goes into Steve's profile. The profile picture is lots of faces squished together, eyes crooked and tongues poking out. Bucky laughs to himself as he flicks through the pictures attached to Steve's profile: lots of selfies of Steve in his glasses, god he's adorably hot. It's ridiculous how into this guy Bucky is already.

His message system beeps with an incoming Facebook message and of course he doesn't want to hope, but if it's Steve he's gonna lose his shit. It's Clint, dammit. Clint who is in the next freaking room, messaging him to see if he wants pizza. Shocker, Barton wants pizza. He shoots a message to him telling him he's a lazy fucker and make sure his half has anchovies on this time. Clint sends a tongue smiley and calls him gross.

He goes back to scrolling through Steve's pictures, assuring himself it's not weird at all: Steve requested him so it's okay to go through pictures that are...oh man, three years old. Better not accidentally like anything though, because then Steve would know how stalkerish Bucky was being. He wonders if Steve is doing the same thing as he is. Probably not, but he hopes, just like he hopes that Steve won't be too harsh when they finally speak and sort everything out.

There's a knock on his door that brings him from his thoughts and Clint is barging in before he's even had chance to answer.

“I come bearing pizza and beer.” He does a funny little bow, careful not to drop the pizza. He sits at the end of Bucky's bed and makes himself comfortable, throws Bucky a beer and flips open the pizza box.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” he all but shouts.

“What’s wrong? They didn't forget my fuckin’ anchovies again did they?” Bucky questions.

“Nah man, they covered the whole thing in the evil li’l bastards,” Clint sighs and Bucky whoops and joins him on the bed. He cracks his beer and takes a long swig, while Clint whines some more and picks the anchovies off his side.

“They make everything taste like them. They’re evil man, dunno how you can stand them.”

Bucky grins through his mouthful of pizza and flicks an anchovy at Clint, who screams like a fucking three year old and scampers back off the bed, falling flat on his ass with a bump. Bucky laughs so hard he almost chokes on the pizza he's attempting to swallow while Clint just glares at him from the floor.

On cue the laptop pings with an incoming message and Bucky bolts so fast from the bed and lunges for the laptop the same time Clint does and they end up in a pile on the floor with the laptop on top of them.

“Off my property you asshat,” Bucky scowls trying to grab at the laptop.

“Who’s the message from Barnes? You said no one but me uses Facebook to message you anymore.”

“I have no idea who it's from idiot. I haven't been able to check it have I?!” He laughs.

Clint raises his hands in an ‘I give up’ motion which allows Bucky to actually check the message. He sits back on the bed, laptop perched to the side of him. Clint is still down on the floor from their slight scuffle.

“Well?” he asks.

Bucky smiles when he opens the message: it's from Steve.

“Is it from lover boy?” Clint presses.

“It's from Steve if that's what you mean. He is _not_ my lover boy.”

“Sure he ain’t. Yet,” Clint cackles.

“Fuck off, Barton,” Bucky grouches.

Clint is already moving towards the door. He snags the six pack of beer he brought with him as he leaves.

“I'm taking these. You can keep the evil pizza. And if you are gonna start sexting him can you lemme know so I can throw my headphones on...Oof.” The pillow that Bucky launches at him bounces off his face and falls to his feet and Clint is still laughing as he leaves Bucky's room and walks down the hall.

Bucky sighs and grabs another pizza slice, leaning back against the headboard and pulling the laptop onto his knees as he opens the message from Steve.

_hey i hope you don't mind me requesting you if you do_

_just let me know tomorrow and i won't be upset._

He's polite, so fucking polite Bucky thinks. It's probably the most endearing thing he's ever seen.

**hey Steve i don't mind you requesting me, not a bit.**

**i’ll see you tomorrow as normal :)**

He sits there staring at his screen a while longer, Facebook telling him that Steve is writing but then it stops, starts again, stops again. Then the small response of _ok_ comes through.

He exhales loudly, a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. Maybe tomorrow won't be so bad after all.

 

_**Steve ** _

 

Monday morning and Steve stays in bed There are no classes today so he’s treating himself to a nice lie in. It was a crappy weekend in which the girls and Sam all tried to tell him that James - no wait, Bucky - that _Bucky_ hadn't meant to upset him and he should just call him and talk. But Steve didn't want that conversation, he wasn't used to rejection. Being the size he was you’d think he might be, but he could always find a hookup if he wanted. He never lacked people asking him out on dates. He had quite the active date life usually.

So the realization that someone he was so attracted to didn't want him, well it kinda stung a bit if he was honest with himself. But he was going to be professional, apologize for running out of the party and just carry on tutoring Bucky as they had been. He could do that, Bucky was hot but so were a lot of guys. It's not like Steve was in love with him, they barely knew each other. Steve just fancied getting to know him a bit better that's all, but now he knows Bucky is the hottie from the party and he’s had ample opportunity to come on to Steve that night and beyond that night, and he hasn't so it's a moot point.

Netflix for the day sounds like a great idea to get his mind off everything before the session later.

~

It's a little after 7pm and Steve sits at their table waiting for Bucky to arrive, he's feeling pretty nervous about everything but he's adamant that they can have a working relationship. There's no reason he can't carry on tutoring Bucky to stay in Pierce's class for the remainder of the semester. He doesn't want to see Bucky fail. And hell, maybe they can be friends.

He spots Bucky coming through the doors, and steals himself for some slight awkwardness.

“Gonna be okay, Rogers,” he mutters under his breath. “Just keep your shit together.”

“Hey Steve, sorry I’m late. Had to walk Clint's mutt for him while he was at class,” Bucky apologizes, offering a small smile.

“Nah it's fine. It gave me time to come up with some ideas for your next assignment.” He offers a shy smile which Bucky returns and Steve's stomach flips. God he's so fucking beautiful, he doesn't think he can do this. Fuck.

“So before we get to it I just wanted to apologize for the other night, I really should've told you we met at the party but it was awkward and the more time that went on the harder it became…” Bucky rushes his words out at Steve in a garbled mess.

“Hey no it's fine, I understand totally, it's really no big deal. ‘M sorry for running out on the party and not giving you chance to explain but I was embarrassed.”

“It's no big right? We good?” Bucky asks cautiously. Steve can see he’s guarded, so quickly offers a nod.

“More than good. Now let's get this shit done okay?”

“You’re the boss dude, I’m just along for the ride. Put me to work, Captain,” Bucky grins.

They fall into an easy rhythm, Steve pointing out key points to make the assignments stand out and Bucky quickly adding detail until he is brimming with ideas and his hands are flying across the page to get everything down. Steve watches him working, Bucky's tongue tends to slip out of the side of his mouth when he concentrates. He also nibbles on the end of his pencil and his nose scrunches up in concentration; it's adorable.

“Dude, what? Have I got something on my face?” Bucky is wiping at his mouth with a free hand looking a little concerned.

“Oh no, sorry, I kinda zoned out for a bit there. Been a long weekend, again.”

“It sure was,” Bucky responds yawning. He stretches and cracks his neck glancing at his watch.

“Dude, it's almost eleven. How the hell is it that late?” As if on cue Miriam walks to their table from the front desk and tells them it's time to pack up and fuck off home, they gather their supplies up and walk out of the library together.

Steve stands a little stiffly at the top of the steps, not sure what he's waiting for but waiting nonetheless. Bucky stands next to him and gently nudges his shoulder.

“I got so much done tonight. Thanks again for all the help. You've been a godsend, Steve. I couldn't of passed this class without you pal, I hope you know that.”

“You've worked hard. You know all your stuff. I think you just struggle to get it down on paper if you have no one to poke around the edges of your ideas.” Steve offers a smile with his praise and Bucky beams back at him, clearly basking in the recognition of his work.

“Well still, you spark something in my creativity that was missing and I will be forever in your debt.” He adds a little bow and a flourish of his hand and Steve chuckles.

“Anytime, Bucky. Honestly, you are a joy to tutor,” he smiles.“But I should get home. Sam will probably be waiting up for me to make sure I got in okay. Kind of a house rule we share if we haven't planned to stay out all night, and I have no idea why I am telling you this, so I'm just gonna go.” Steve babbles towards the end feeling like a total idiot but Bucky is just smiling at him.

Steve says goodbye and starts to walk away when Bucky shouts after him and follows him down the steps.

“Look can we...do you maybe want to grab a coffee with me sometime this week?” Bucky says quickly and if Steve didn't know better he would say Bucky is blushing a touch.

“Oh, another study session? Was there something you needed to go over before writing the paper up?”

“No Steve, not another study session. I mean, would you like to go for coffee, with me, on a non-study kind of date?” Bucky slows his words down as if Steve is stupid or something and to be honest Steve thinks he's probably already at home asleep, dreaming, because why would Bucky be asking him on a date unless he was having a dream? It didn't make any sense.

“A date? Like a date d _ate_?” Steve asks confusedly.

“Yes you goof: a date _date_ ,” Bucky laughs and it's such a beautiful sound, low in his throat, almost husky.

“Why?” Steve asks like the idiot he is.

“Whatcha mean, why?” Bucky quirks a brow in amusement.

“Well I mean, you didn't tell me you'd met me at the party, and then when I figured it out you were embarrassed and I thought…” Steve trails off because he doesn't want to sound more idiotic that he already does.

“You thought that I wasn't interested?”

“Well yeah, it made sense in my head. I mean, do you even like guys?” He splutters and then quickly gasps. “Oh my god, I'm sorry, I'm a fucking idiot please ignore me. Can the ground swallow me right up now please?” Steve needs to shut up he thinks to himself, shut up right now please mouth, just stop fucking talking.

“Steve, stop. I like guys. I am gay, so so gay and I would immensely like to take you on a non-alcohol filled date, without the studying, maybe with some consensual kissing, would that be something you would like to do - with me - say on Wednesday?”

Steve nods his head, unable to form a coherent sentence. His brain appears to have shut off completely now.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes and see you Wednesday. Come to the house around 2pm and we can go and grab coffee?” Bucky smiles sweetly. So sweetly and Steve wants nothing more than to wipe the smile off his face, with his lips, attached to Bucky's lips and oh god stop it. He needs to nod his head or do something. He's such a fucking dork, his brain really isn't firing anymore.

“Wednesday, yeah that...that sounds like a plan,” Steve finally manages to get out.

“Wednesday then. See you later, Steve.” Bucky shoots another smile, brighter than the sun, and rushes off down the steps.

Steve stares after him, long after he is out of sight, until there is a gentle cough from behind him and he whirls around to see Miriam grinning at him.

“Oh god, how much of that travesty did you hear?”

“Oh all of it, dear. He’s quite the catch that one,” she smiles.

Steve smiles. Yeah he is, he really is.

_________________________________________________________________________

Tuesday. Steve can't concentrate on anything. He’s sat at the dining table with Sam. They’re both trying to write their literature papers but his brain is still set firmly to _off_ for anything other than Bucky.

He has a date. With Bucky. He has a date with Bucky. He can't believe he read it all so wrong. He was usually pretty good at picking up on the signs that someone was attracted to him but he’d totally missed any signs Bucky was giving off, presuming he had given any to miss.

“Dude can you think quieter please?” Sam sighs, sounding exasperated.

“Sorry,” Steve answers mechanically. He taps his pencil lightly at the edge of the table.

“Urgh.” Pushing away from the table and throwing the pencil down, he sighs.

“Man, what is wrong with you? You've been twitchy as hell since you got in yesterday.”

“I have a date,” Steve supplies, as if this answers everything.

“And?” Sam pushes.

“A date with Bucky. He asked me last night. It's tomorrow and Sam I’m so nervous about it.”

“Finally!” Sam says punching at Steve’s arm.

“What do you mean, finally? It's only been a few weeks since I met him Sam, jeez.”

“Yeah, but I knew man. I knew,” Sam says smugly.

“Sure you did Wilson. Keep telling yourself that.”

“I will, Rogers, I will. So what's the date?” Sam enquires.

“Coffee, tomorrow. I’m picking him up at his place around two,” Steve offers.

“You're picking him up on a date that _he_ asked you to?”

“Well, he doesn't know where I live and it was kinda a rush setup, so yeah I'm gonna swing by the frat house and pick him up. Probably head to the Starbucks on campus or something. It's a first date, Sam, I don't expect him to go all out here. Just getting to see him in a non-study way is gonna be nice.”

“Also in a sober way too, huh?” Sam laughs.

Steve swats him across the back of the head but laughs.

“Fuck yeah, definitely no drinking for a while when I’m with him.”

Sam is messing with his phone, Steve notices, fingers flying across a message screen.

“Please tell me you aren't doing what I think you are doing Sam,” he pleads.

“Depends on what ya think I’m doing. If you think that I'm texting the girls that you have a date with lover boy then I am doing exactly what you expect.” He grins up at Steve who groans and slumps back into the hardwood chair at the table.

It's not long before the girls arrive at the house both grinning at him.

“Well, well, well,” Natasha says, smile on her face like a feral animal and a wicked glint in her eye that usually tells people she's up to something.

Of course Steve knows exactly what she's thinking and he groans outwardly. Sharon laughs and drags him up from his chair.

“C'mon tough guy, we gotta make sure you’re dressed correctly for the big date.”

Steve sighs and lets the pair drag him off to his bedroom. It's gonna be a long day of them telling him he has nothing acceptable to wear.

 

_**Bucky ** _

 

Bucky stands in front of his closet and shakes his head. He's wearing dark jeans, combat boots and nothing else. He sighs and throws yet another shirt onto the bed, whacking Clint in the face with it as he starts sorting through the shirts left hanging up in the closet.

“Dude, just pick something. Doesn't matter what you wear, you’re gonna look hot.”

“Thanks man but I just can't decide. Will you just pick one for me please and put me out of my fuckin’ misery? He's gonna be here soon and I can't fuckin’ think,” Bucky grumbles.

Clint rummages through the chest of drawers to the side of the bed before pulling out a soft grey henley.

“Here, try this,” he launches it at Bucky who deftly catches it with his left arm and shrugs it on. “Arm’s feeling better I see. You’ll be back to practice in no time.”

Bucky rotates his arm and yeah it _is_ feeling better now he thinks about it. He hasn't given it much thought the past few weeks. What with Pierce riding him so hard and the Steve drama, it's been out of his mind.

“Yeah, it's feeling pretty good man.” Bucky steps in front of the mirror and pulls out the tie that's holding his hair in a low ponytail and teases his fingers through the unruly mess, unraveling the knots that have appeared as if by magic through the course of the day.

“How did you get so good at this shit anyway?” he asks Clint, pointing to himself in the mirror. Even he's gotta admit, he looks pretty good in the jean/henley combo with the black boots setting the outfit off.

“It's a gift man, what can I say,” Clint shrugs. “I also listen to Wanda when she speaks and she knows her shit.”

Bucky nods and smiles. Clint's adoptive sister sure knows her fashion.

“Think Wanda would approve then?” He questions, arms spread out as he does a spin awaiting Clint's critique.

“You look good man. In a ‘my best friend’s hot and he's gonna knock the pants off his date’ way, not in a ‘I wanna fuck you’ way. I love you man, but you are so not my type.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. As far as he knows Clint doesn't have a type at all, but he isn't going to split hairs with him right now. It’s almost two so Steve should be here any moment. The nerves are bubbling to the surface again and Clint, being Clint, can see that Bucky is starting to panic.

“Bucky, Buck, hey dude it's gonna be fine okay. Just don't put out on the first date and make sure you pay since you asked him out. You got this buddy.”

“Don't put out? Clint have you _seen_ him?” Bucky whimpers, not putting out won’t be easy. If it's something Steve wants on a first date Bucky is gonna be hard pressed to turn him down.

Right on cue the doorbell rings and Clint scrambles past Bucky and takes the stairs two at a time, beating him to the door easily. Bucky grumbles all the way down the stairs behind him but Clint already has the door open.

“Well hello there, short blond and handsome,” he exclaims swinging the door wide open.

Steve stands there looking like a walking sex advert. His hair is mussed up in a just fucked kind of style, the v neck sweater he's wearing is dark blue, the v cut just the right way to show his clavicle and a hint of pale chest hair. It's form fitting and while Steve is slight, he’s clearly toned and muscled and if that didn't ring all of Bucky's bells already, he’s in blue jeans; acid wash blue. Bucky gulps, sweet lord how is he going to get through the date without pouncing on him when he looks like this?

“Hi, is Bucky here?” Steve asks. It's clear he hasn't noticed Bucky standing on the stairs drooling like an idiot, thank god. It gives Bucky a moment to gather himself and rearrange the semi that had stirred the moment he saw Steve looking like sex on a stick.

“Steve, hey,” Bucky says finally finding his voice. He pulls himself up to stand straight, shoulder barging Clint as he makes his way towards Steve.

“Ready to go?” Steve asks with a warm smile on his lips. The smile reaches his eyes and they crinkle at the edges, making Steve’s whole face light up.

“Sure. Lemme just grab my wallet and keys and we can head off,” Bucky responds. He quickly walks to the kitchen, aware that every second he leaves Steve with Clint gets him closer to Clint whipping out the baby photos, same as he always does within minutes of a prospective new date arriving.

He grabs his wallet from the kitchen and his keys from the bowl on the side table in the hall and quickly walks back to the door. Steve is laughing at something Clint’s saying-well that's a good sign and at least he's not got his phone in front of Steve’s face. Baby pictures saved for a different day no doubt. He’s gonna have a word with his mother for giving those to Clint one day, it's been nothing but an awful idea from the start.

“Okay, we’re good to go,” Bucky declares, shoving past Clint who laughs and shouts after them.

“You kids have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”

Bucky looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes.“That's not leaving us with much to do then, Barton.”

Steve laughs quietly as they walk. They can hear Clint guffawing like a lunatic at the door still, fucking dork.

“Sorry about him. He's not really my best friend, he's just some idiot I paid to make me look cool.”

“Well that really backfired didn't it,” Steve responds with a wink.

“You cheeky shit.”

“Where to then? I figured the Starbucks on campus, but that's clearly in the opposite direction than we’re heading, so what's the plan?”

“Okay so there's a sweet little cafe just a ways up the road. I figured it would be less busy than campus, if that's okay with you? I mean we can go to campus if you'd prefer to not be so secluded…” Bucky knows he’s babbling but the nerves are back and Steve is just looking at him, blue eyes shining with clear amusement.

“Bucky, it's fine. I don't mind being alone with you, kinda the reason for asking me to coffee rather than studying at the library right?”

Bucky relaxes again. He doesn't know why he's so nervous dammit.

“Yeah, sorry I dunno why 'm losing my cool right now.” Shit, did he really just say that out loud to Steve? “Oh look, here we are.”

They arrive at the small cafe, ‘Delilahs’, and find a table. Bucky goes to grab their coffees while Steve sits and waits. Bucky keeps shooting glances back at him while he waits for their order. Steve is sat with his back to him though and seems perfectly at ease.

“There you go, dear. Will there be anything else?” The lady behind the counter asks.

“The coffees are good for now, thank you,” he says with a smile and takes their drinks back to the table and to Steve.

“So, shouldn't I be the nervous one? I mean, I was the one groping you in a drunken stupor and throwing myself at you, if the girls are to be believed,” Steve laughs.

Bucky sits for a moment in silence and watches Steve's shoulders shake up and down with the movement of his laugh. The little shit. Bucky is so fuckin’ gone on him already it's crazy.

“Thanks.” Steve nods at the coffee and wraps his hands around the cup, pulling it to his lips and blowing gently on the liquid before he takes a small sip.

The conversation flows easily between them as they drink their coffee. They talk about their courses, their ice cream preferences and their favorite TV shows. They discuss family and Bucky talks about his Mom and Dad fondly, less fondly about the annoying bratty little sister he has. Steve laughs and says he would love a bratty little sister since he’s an only child. It’s just his Mom and him left after his dad passed away when Steve was young. Bucky soaks in every word; he could listen to Steve's voice for hours. It doesn't matter what they’re talking about, they could be discussing cheese or the price of shoes and Bucky's attention would be solely on Steve.

They refill their coffee three times, completely losing track of time chatting. It's easy to be with Steve this way, he's so nice to talk to. Bucky’s stomach rumbles loudly interrupting Steve telling him about his childhood imaginary friend Billyboo,

“Someone hungry?” Steve smirks, stating the obvious.

“Yeah, I guess we talked so much we missed dinner.”

“We could split a muffin,” Steve offers. “Not sure I could eat a whole one from here. Have you see the size of them?”

“Yeah, even I struggle to put away a whole one in a single sitting. I’ll go grab us one. Any preference?” Bucky stands and waits for a response.

“Chocolate chip is always good if they have any.”

“Chocolate chip it is. D’you want a refill too?” He gestures to the empty coffee cups on the table but doesn't wait for a response as he walks to the counter.

He orders the coffee: plain black for himself, a latte for Steve and the muffin. The lady behind the counter smiles at him knowingly. Being the only customers in the shop for the past hour she's probably been watching them chat.

“First date, dear?” She whispers.

“Yeah, that obvious huh?”

“Not at all. I’ve just seen my fair share of first dates come through my little shop is all.”

“Hopefully it's the first of many.” Bucky smiles as she hands him the tray with the muffin and drinks.

Placing the tray on the table in front of Steve, Bucky sits back down, takes his coffee in both hands and blows gently.

“Ooh triple chocolate chip.” Steve reaches for the muffin and splits it into two, crumbs and chips falling onto the plate between the halves.

He takes a bite and lets out a groan that goes straight to Bucky's dick. It's the most pornographic sound Bucky’s heard and he’s watched a shit ton of porn. It's so fucking delicious and he's semi hard in an instant. Steve’s licking his fingers and making yummy noises, apparently oblivious to Bucky's situation, and Bucky’s doing his best not to whimper. He grabs some muffin and shoves it in his mouth, if only to avoid outright moaning as Steve slowly licks at his fingertips again, closes his eyes and tilts his head back a touch. Jesus fuck, it's porn. It's outright porn, and Bucky is so so gone.

Steve is smiling as he finishes his half of the muffin and continues to sip the last of his coffee. Bucky busies himself with his remaining few bites of muffin, shifting in his seat uncomfortably due to the growing erection in his jeans. Distracted by the situation in his pants, he doesn't see Steve swipe the solitary chocolate chip until it's too late.

“Dammit Steve, you ate the last chocolate chip! Not cool dude.”

Steve sticks his tongue out showing Bucky the chocolate slowly melting and waggles it in victory. Before Bucky even _thinks_ about what he's doing, he leans across the table and sucks the chocolate off Steve's tongue. Steve's eyes widen in shock and Bucky moans as the chocolate reaches his taste buds. It's too sweet, and almost sickly, but he's trying his hardest to give Steve the same issue that Bucky’s having to deal with under the table.

Bucky sits back smiling smugly when he sees Steve shift ever so slightly, the tips of his ears tinged pink, cheeks a rosy blush that make him even more attractive than he was already. Bucky can't believe he just did that if he's honest with himself. It's more forward that he usually is on a first date, but there's something about Steve that just draws him in and he needs to have all the firsts immediately.

“Fuck Bucky, you can't just suck on my tongue like that. Not in public, not when now all I wanna do is drag you outside and fuck you ‘til you can't remember your own name.”

“Jesus Rogers, you kiss your momma with that mouth?” Bucky says with a shaky laugh.

“Oh if you’re lucky, I’ll show you exactly what I can do with my mouth, hot stuff” Steve waggles his eyebrows and darts his tongue out to lick gently at his lower lip and snags the remaining chocolate that lingers there.

“You’re a fuckin menace,” Bucky responds. “You wanna get outta here?”

“I promised myself I wouldn't sleep with you on the first date,” Steve stutters out.

“Me too, pal. You wanna get outta here?” Bucky repeats and Steve huffs a laugh.

“Fuck it. Yeah, yeah let's.” Steve stands and grabs Bucky's hand, before turning back to him.

“Your place or mine? God, that's so cliche.” He laughs and Bucky agrees, so fucking cliche, but at this stage cliche is everything he wants from Steve.

“Mine?” Bucky questions and Steve nods.

“It's closer. Closer, yeah closer’s good right now.”

Bucky agrees: closer is definitely better.

They get to Bucky's place, and Bucky really fuckin hopes that Clint has fucked off out for the night. He glances at his watch, just gone eight, they've been sat in that little cafe for six hours, jesus. He drops his keys twice at the door trying to get the key to fit in the lock. It doesn't help that Steve has his hand on his ass, giving small squeezes every few seconds. It's really distracting, truth be told. Bucky finally gets the door open and they go inside.

“You want the tour?” He asks to be polite. Of course if Steve says yes at this point Bucky's gonna cry, big weepy tears of desperation and need.

Steve is staring at him. Steve isn't saying a word, just staring. Bucky licks his lips because Steve's gaze on him like this is almost predatory, and fuck if he doesn't want Steve to throw him down and fuck him until he doesn't remember his own name.

Steve must be thinking along the same lines because a moment later he's on Bucky, crowding into his space, hand on the back of his neck, fingers lacing through his hair tightly. He drags Bucky's head down to his level, lips finally touching for just the briefest of moments. Steve's tongue dances around the edges of Bucky's lips, teasing and taunting.

He can't take much more of this so turning the tables on him, he grabs Steve around the waist and lifts him just a few millimeters and swings him around, slamming his body into the wall, crowding Steve’s slight frame with his own. Bucky kisses down Steve's neck, sucking and biting, eliciting gasps and moans, finally bringing his lips back to Steve's mouth and kissing him hard and fast. He can taste the bitter coffee lingering on Steve's tongue as the kiss deepens. Their first kiss, Bucky thinks absently.

Steve is pliant in Bucky's arms, letting him control the kisses they are sharing, but they really need to move this to somewhere less public. After all, Bucky lives in a frat house, someone is bound to interrupt them if they stay in the hallway much longer.

Bucky reluctantly breaks the kiss. Breathlessly he notices they are holding on to each other: Bucky for fear that if he let's go his knees will give out in an embarrassing display, Steve for his own reasons that Bucky has no clue about. He just knows he doesn't want Steve to let go, not for a second.

Bucky kisses him again chastely.“Bedroom?” He says into Steve’s mouth. Steve nods dazedly and allows Bucky to lead him up the stairs and along the hallway to Bucky's room. Bucky notes that Clint’s door is closed, which probably means he's home, dammit.

Putting Clint out of his mind, Bucky opens his bedroom door and gestures for Steve to go inside. Never letting go of Bucky's hand, Steve walks in and drags Bucky with him roughly, slamming Bucky backwards against the door with his body, and all Bucky knows is Steve. He's everywhere - his knee is pushing at Bucky's thighs, his hands at Bucky’s fly and grappling with the buttons on his jeans.

Bucky chuckles darkly in between the kisses, tugging at Steve's t-shirt. Steve lifts his arms and Bucky tugs the shirt up and over his head, throwing it off to the side somewhere. He stops kissing Steve for a moment to take in the shirtless gift that he is. Steve may be slight, but the muscles are clearly defined and Bucky promises himself that he’s gonna kiss every last inch of Steve before the night is through.

They laugh into each other’s mouths, murmuring almost nonsensically, whispering praise. As they divest themselves of their remaining clothes, Steve sinks to his knees and grabs the hem of Bucky's jeans, giving a final tug and pushing Bucky back onto the bed, a trail of clothes making a path to where they are now.

“No underwear. I'm impressed,” Steve says, grinning up at Bucky and licking at his own lips. They look so soft, Bucky thinks, red and swollen from the kissing, glistening from the saliva Steve has spread across them with a flick of his tongue.

With a wicked glint in his eye, Steve starts by slowly licking up the inside of Bucky's thigh, placing small kisses between the licks of his tongue and Bucky is lost in sensation. Steve's hands hold his hip down against the bed firmly as Bucky leans up on his elbows to get a look at Steve. God, he looks so fucking beautiful on his knees for Bucky. He can't wait to return the favor. Later though, because Steve's tongue glances over the tip of Bucky's cock and swirls around the head before he laps back down the shaft softly, so softly, and all coherent thought leaves Bucky's brain.

Steve sets a wicked pace, bringing Bucky to the brink with his sinful mouth and talented hands working together to undo Bucky and leave him a gibbering moaning mess on the bed beneath him.

Bucky bucks up into Steve’s mouth a few times, making him cough and splutter. He murmurs an apology, but Steve waves him away with his free hand and gives him a thumbs up so Bucky doesn't feel too bad about it. He lays back with his eyes closed. Steve is licking up his length with the flat of his tongue, before taking his cock in his mouth and sucking him down to the hilt in one swift motion. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of Steve's throat would be enough to make him come. But together with Steve alternately fondling the weight of his balls softly between his thumb and forefinger and gently stroking at his rim - the tease of a wet fingertip is torture, sweet torture - and Bucky can feel the tightness coiling in his balls and he knows he's going to come soon. Embarrassingly fast if he’s honest with himself, but he can't stop it now.

His hands make their way into Steve's hair, fingers threading through the short length tightly. He tugs a few times to try and get Steve's attention because he can barely breathe let alone form words that will make any sense, but Steve is either not taking the hint or ignoring him, working the head of Bucky's cock in his open throat, and Bucky knows he's not lasting much longer, no fucking way.

“Steve, fuck, you gotta stop or I'm gonna come,” he gasps finally and Steve lifts up, letting go of Bucky's cock with a loud wet pop.

He swiftly takes it in his hand and works him over, twisting and pumping Bucky to his release and finally Bucky comes, hot streaks spraying his stomach, glancing across Steve's knuckles, a loud moan on his lips and hiss that might be Steve's name but Bucky isn't sure because he can't hear anything except the blood pounding in his ears. He thinks it's the best orgasm he's had in quite a while and shit did he say that out loud?

Steve chuckles from between his legs, and Bucky lifts his head and glances at him. He's sitting back now on his haunches, one hand resting gently on Bucky's knee. He's flushed and Bucky can see him slowly jerking himself off with the free hand, cock hard and glistening with his precome.

“Best orgasm, huh,” Steve chuckles again. “I could get an ego from you saying that, but I already know how good I am.” He winks and Bucky laughs.

“That was, yeah that was amazing” Bucky says, still a little breathless.

“Well, there's more where that came from sweet cheeks. I'm just gettin’ started,” Steve says with another wink and pulls Bucky back up to him for a kiss.

~

Bucky wakes up slowly. He feels too warm. He tries to flick the covers off before he realizes the weight on his chest is actually not covers at all, but Steve. Steve’s curled around his legs, arms tight around his waist as he drools on Bucky's chest. He smiles to himself and lays there just basking in the afterglow of their evening.

They actually hadn't had sex. After the amazing blowjob Steve gave him, Bucky wanted to return the favor and after making Steve come twice they were both too tired to do much more than wrap themselves around each other and fall into a blissful sleep.

The door swings open and suddenly there’s Clint bouncing on the end of the bed like he always does. His eyes widen when he realizes Bucky isn't alone.

“Fuck, sorry dude I didn't know he was here.”

“S’ok, just don’t wake him”

Clint grins and whispers “You didn’t take it slow I see?”

“We didn't fuck. That's taking it slow for me. I mean look at him would _you_ take it slow?”

“He ain’t my type man, but I see why he's yours.”

Bucky just grins and strokes the top of Steve's arm softly, Steve stirs beneath the light touches and flips onto his back, exposing himself in the process before Bucky can grab the cover to stop him flashing Clint.

“Fuck me sideways. Mazeltov Buck, I can definitely see why he's your type.” Clint winks and backs off the bed, leaving a blushing Bucky to cover Steve's modesty.

“I heard that,” Steve murmurs sleepily.

“Sorry,” Bucky whispers back, wrapping his arms around Steve once more “Go back to sleep, it's still early.”

“M’kay, only if you stay with me.”

“Sure thing, pal. Ain’t nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

He feels Steve take a deep breath and smile against his skin. Yeah, there's nowhere else he's thinking about being anytime soon that's for damn sure.

**Author's Note:**

> I live for kudos, kudos makes the muse smile<3
> 
> Come [Tumblr with me](http://slaughterme-barnes.tumblr.com/)


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